


When I Rush (I Rush For You)

by xxenjoy



Series: Sugar and Spice [1]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt's Canonically Huge Cock, Love Confessions, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Scent Kink, Sex Pollen, Sugar and Spice Witcher Bingo, Top Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, of sorts, this is soft but also...not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-13 20:54:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28909647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxenjoy/pseuds/xxenjoy
Summary: Jaskier recieves a gift from a concerned shopkeeper and it has unforeseen effects on his Witcher.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Sugar and Spice [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2120265
Comments: 17
Kudos: 601





	When I Rush (I Rush For You)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [Suagr and Spice Witcher Bingo](https://sugar-and-spice-witcher-bingo.tumblr.com/) for the prompt _scent_.  
> And since I couldn't just use the whole song for a title: [Rush](https://open.spotify.com/track/79V6bZgxKO8LXRbS2y8WUB?si=9RHe2k7ITAuSm4gJwQbfaw) by Depeche Mode for your consideration.

The sun is already going down when they _finally_ stop for the evening. Geralt is still grouchy about the incident with the blacksmith and his silence has only made the afternoon drag on. Well, that and the mysterious bottle tucked away in the bottom of Jaskier's pack. It's been waiting there for him for the better part of the day, having been given to him by a shopkeeper that morning with only _this should help_ as an explanation. Help with what, he doesn't know, but he hopes it will calm Geralt down a little. They had been arguing at the time, so maybe. 

And now that they've stopped moving, Jaskier is itching to see what it is. So once the fire is lit and Geralt has gone off to hunt for their supper, Jaskier digs the bottle out to inspect it. Unopened, it's completely innocuous. The liquid inside is clear and for a moment, Jaskier wonders if he's been duped. When he tips the bottle upside down, it looks like nothing more than water and he frowns at it. Well, there's only one way to know for sure.

He uncorks the bottle and lifts it to his nose. It doesn't _smell_ of anything either, but when he tips a small amount onto his hand to taste it, it's a strange combination of bitter and sweet. Not water then. 

He's running through a mental list of things it _could_ be when he notices the scent for the first time. It's faint and not unpleasant but seems to arise out of nowhere. Jaskier shuts his eyes and tries to figure out where it's coming from, but whenever he moves it seems to grow fainter. It's not until he's corking the bottle again that he realizes the scent is stronger when he lifts his arms. 

He turns his palm over, inspecting the area where he dumped the liquid and lifts it to his nose. _Oh_. That's definitely the source of the scent, although it doesn't make much sense. The liquid has no scent of its own, but maybe it's some fancy new perfume? Though the shopkeeper had said it should help with the tension between them and Jsskier doesn't see how perfume could help. But it smells rather nice, so he tips the bottle and rubs it into his neck and wrists. No one else but Geralt is around, but there's no reason not to smell nice just for himself. 

Tucking the bottle back into his pack, Jaskier rises to his feet to finish going about his tasks. He lays out their bedrolls and gets a fire pit prepared, but he doesn't light it yet. It's a warm night and they'll need the fire for cooking rather than heat tonight. 

And as the minutes drag by, it seemingly gets hotter. Jaskier's skin prickles with it, but he just sheds his doublet and doesn't think any more of it. Not, at least, until Geralt returns with a scowl on his face. 

Geralt drops the rabbits he’s carrying and immediately frowns over at Jaskier. He looks tense, more so than when he left, which doesn't make any sense. 

"Do you smell that?" he grunts and Jaskier lifts his wrist instinctively, sniffing it and holding it out.

"My perfume?" he asks and Geralt immediately shakes his head. 

"No, it's something else." After glowering around the campsite, he seemingly shrugs it off and goes back to preparing dinner. 

Jaskier sits and watches, taking note of each little movement of Geralt's hands and there's something inherently sexy about the way he moves. He's hyper-focused on it, his breath coming a little quicker, and it's not until Geralt sits up again that Jaskier realizes he's getting turned on watching Geralt prepare raw meat. He wrinkles his nose at himself and turns away. Maybe he just needs to get off. It has been a while, after all, and the incident with the blacksmith certainly didn’t help. That’s all it is. Or, at least, that's the only good reason he can come up with for his reaction to skinning rabbits. 

He's lost in thought, thinking back to his almost-encounter with the blacksmith in town, when he realizes Geralt is on his feet again, wandering around the site. And Jaskier knows the look in his eyes; Geralt is searching for something. And he's _sniffing_. Jaskier is about to speak up again, suggest that the only thing that's changed is his perfume, but then Geralt is right up in front of him, bending and tipping Jaskier's head to one side to _smell him_. 

"It _is_ you," he accuses and Jaskier shrinks back. 

This close, Jaskier can feel the intense heat radiating from Geralt's body, which is unusual unless he’s asleep. His eyes flick up and he's met with blown pupils, so focused on him that it makes Jaskier shiver despite the heat. He reaches out, pressing a hand to Geralt's shoulder and nearly withdraws immediately. Geralt's shirt is soaked through with sweat and Jaskier starts to worry. He was fine when he left, what happened in the hour he was gone?

"Geralt, are you-?" he's cut off as Geralt leans into his neck, breathing deeply. Geralt's nose brushes against his skin and Jaskier bites his lip to hold back a moan. It takes an enormous amount of strength, but he presses both hands to Geralt's chest, pushing him back gently. 

"Okay," he says, struggling to keep his voice steady. He keeps his eyes off Geralt as he speaks. "Please explain to me what's going on." _Because I'm trying very hard to hold onto my self-restraint here._

"What have you been doing?" 

"Nothing," Jaskier squawks. 

"Then why do you smell like... _that_."

"Like what? All I'm wearing is this perfume, Geralt." 

Geralt leans in again, nuzzling against his neck and if Jaskier didn't know better, he would swear he hears a low rumbling _purr_ coming from the Witcher. Jaskier rises to his feet and pushes him away because this is cruel and unfair and he doesn't want to take advantage of whatever this is, but he can hardly be expected to control himself with Geralt nuzzling into his neck like this. Geralt stumbles a little and stares back at him in shock as if some spell has been broken. 

Well, that's something. 

But then Jaskier's eyes drop and he realizes with a start that Geralt is hard in his trousers and that's... not helping matters. 

"Geralt," he says slowly, "what's going on?"

"This perfume," Geralt snaps, "where did you get it?"

"The shopkeeper back in Dorian. He said it would help. With what, I don’t-"

"Show me."

Jaskier nods and drops to pick up his bag, digging the bottle out to present it to Geralt. Geralt takes it and turns it over in hand hands before opening it and sniffing the lip of the bottle. 

"It didn't start to smell until you put it on your skin," he says and Jaskier isn't sure if it's a question or not, but he nods anyway. " _Fuck_."

"Geralt what-" the bottle is thrust back at him abruptly and Geralt turns away.

"Dump it when we leave tomorrow. Don't get any more of it on yourself. I'm leaving, I’ll be back-"

"Geralt!" Geralt turns back and Jaskier just looks at him. "What the fuck is going on."

Geralt shuts his eyes and exhales deeply, running a hand over his face. "It's a pheromone enhancer. More commonly known as a love potion. But it doesn't make anyone fall in love with you, it just makes them..."

"Horny?" Jaskier guesses as everything starts to settle into place. 

"Exactly. And it's only going to make our problems worse, so you need to get rid of it." He tries to turn away again, but Jaskier doesn't let him. 

"So you're... turned on by the way I smell?"

"Hmm."

"Oh, that's..." _ridiculous. intriguing. stupidly hot_. "Geralt?" Jaskier takes a couple of steps forward, slipping up behind him and when Geralt doesn't move, Jaskier presses his palms to his back. "Geralt," he whispers, "it's no secret that I would happily fall into bed with you any given night - or day, for that matter - and if I smell that good… if you want-"

" _Jaskier_. You don't know what you're offering.

"Mm, on the contrary, my dear, I know exactly what I'm offering."

"Your scent is... intoxicating. It gets inside my head and slowly chips away at my control."

Jaskier huffs a soft laugh, wrapping his arms around Geralt's waist. Despite his protests, Geralt makes no attempt to pull away and it makes Jaskier bolder. 

"So you like it rough," he hums, "I'm not a porcelain doll, darling, I won't break."

"I know," Geralt says quickly and his shoulders slump under Jaskier's touch. "It's just... when I thought about... _us_ , I imagined it differently." The words sound like they're pulled from him with great difficulty, but Jaskier doesn't let himself think too long about it because he doesn't want Geralt getting the wrong impression. 

"You've thought about it?" he asks, breathless. 

"On occasion."

"And you never told me? Never asked me to share your bed?"

"It's not about the sex, Jaskier."

And _oh_ , he isn't quite sure what to do with that. He doesn't want to stay quiet for too long because for Geralt, that's a _lot_ to put out there, but he doesn't want to say the wrong thing. But this is unprecedented for Geralt and this is not the time nor the place Jaskier ever considered talking about his feelings. 

"Geralt are you saying you... do you have feelings for me?" Even as he's saying the words, a shiver of fear runs up his spine. That this is too much. Too soon. That Geralt isn't ready for this. That it will ruin any chance of talking about it properly in the future. 

"Hmm." Geralt doesn't pull away, but he doesn't elaborate and Jaskier feels like his whole body will collapse beneath him when he catches a whispered, " _yes_." He drops his forehead between Geralt's shoulder blades with a relieved laugh and squeezes him tighter. 

"Oh my darling, I wish I'd known that earlier."

"What," Geralt snaps but the heat doesn't quite come through, "so you wouldn't fuck the blacksmith." More metaphorical pieces fall into place and Jaskier hums and nuzzles against the back of Geralt's neck. 

"I didn't fuck him, Geralt. You did a rather good job of ensuring that when you burst into the room. I wish I'd known earlier so I could have just taken _you_ up to my room instead." He nips at Geralt's ear where it peeks through his hair and runs his hands down Geralt's sides, over his hips. He's careful not to push too far, not to touch his cock (though the temptation is maddening) and Geralt grunts at him. "Geralt?" he asks quietly, "you know I love you, too."

"Yes," Geralt grits and that only raises so many more questions, but this is not the time for them, "which is why it's so frustrating when you run around all over town." 

Jaskier maneuvers Geralt to face him and smiles up at him, resting an arm on his shoulder. 

"Hush, love. There won't be anyone else." He smiles at him, meeting Geralt's eyes as he slips a hand down his chest. Geralt shudders as Jaskier reaches the hem of his trousers and as he slips lower, his eyes flutter shut. Jaskier's fingers slip around the jut of his cock through the leather and hums. "I believe we were discussing you fucking me."

Geralt's eyes open and he frowns at him, pulling back. "Jaskier-" Jaskier knows the argument before Geralt has a chance to speak. 

"Geralt, my darling. My love. Light of my life. I love that you want to make love to me the first time, but we have all the time in the world for that and you _need_ this." He presses closer, winding both arms around Geralt's neck to prevent him from pulling away again. "So right now, if this scent makes you lose control, I want you to fuck me so hard I can't walk tomorrow."

Immediately, Geralt's arms are around his waist, hauling him close and Geralt kisses him hard, but briefly. His mouth drifts constantly, returning to his neck to nip at the skin and press his nose under his jaw. Jaskier lets himself be manhandled, lets Geralt do what he wants with him. He gets Jaskier out of his clothes quickly, but he returns again and again to his throat, nipping and sucking at the skin which is sexier than it has any right to be. 

Geralt rocks against him, holding Jaskier steady to increase the friction. He drops his head to Jaskier's shoulder, nose pressed into his neck and Jaskier takes the opportunity to get his hands between them. He fumbles with Geralt's trousers as teeth graze against his skin again, but he gets them undone and shoves them down just far enough to free Geralt's cock. 

Jaskier takes him in hand stroking him even as Geralt's hips continue shifting, fucking into the tunnel of Jaskier's hand. And by the gods, Jaskier could never have imagined Geralt like this, needy and wanting and _taking_ from him. 

He imagines Geralt fucking him like this, wonders if he'll continue taking what he needs, if he'll fuck him hard, if he would- he’s struck by a thought, encouraged by the thick cock in his hand, and he leans up, kissing Geralt quick and hard before dropping to his knees. There's a groan from above him and Geralt's hands are in his head immediately, tangling in his hair, but he shows no reluctance. 

Jaskier mouths up the length of his cock, keeping his hand wrapped around the base of him, and even the faintest brush of his lips causes Geralt's hands to tighten in his hair. It's intoxicating, to feel like he has this kind of power over him, and his cock aches in its confines. He wants Geralt to touch him, wants to come, but more than that, he wants Geralt to fuck his mouth and take what he needs from him. He flicks his eyes up, taking in the pleasure on Geralt's face, the way his bottom lip is trapped between his teeth and Jaskier leans forward, pressing a kiss to his hip. 

He kisses down the length of Geralt's cock before taking the head into his mouth and Geralt's hips jerk forward hard, pushing between his lips. Jaskier moans encouragingly. If he only gets one chance to see Geralt like this, he's not going to take it for granted. 

Jaskier takes him down deep, letting Geralt thrust deeply, bumping the back of his throat as he leans over him. His own cock throbs, ignored in favour of Geralt's pleasure for the time being and Jaskier's legs part automatically. He can't hold back any longer, reaching down to palm at himself through his trousers. He tries to focus on the weight of Geralt's cock on his tongue, the taste of him, but having given in, his body burns for more. 

He whimpers as he squeezes around his cock, thrusting abortively up into the touch and then, abruptly, Geralt withdraws and Jaskier finds himself lifted off the ground. It's a blur as Geralt lays him down and there's a rush to get them both out of their clothes and Jaskier aches until Geralt is naked and pressed against him once more. 

They move together and it's quick and sloppy, both too desperate for the touch for anything more. Then Geralt reaches for his pack and Jaskier holds his breath in anticipation. He produces a vial of oil and he doesn't waste any time, slicking his fingers quickly and reaching down between Jaskier's legs. Geralt kisses him as he works the first finger into him, breathless but unbearably soft and Jaskier pulls his hand from his cock to wrap his arms around Geralt's neck. 

Jaskier whines as Geralt starts moving, thrusting into him steadily. It's hot and impatient and Jaskier moans his praise into Geralt's mouth as he rocks up to meet him. At this rate, he doesn't think he'll last until Geralt fucks him properly. Then Geralt adds a second finger with little hesitation and Jaskier arches off the ground before his entire body goes limp. 

"Please," he whispers, "fuck, Geralt, _please_ , I need you-" he's rambling, only half-aware of what he's saying and less aware of Geralt's response. But he focuses on Geralt's voice deep and rough, but soothing as he gets a third finger into him and fucks into him hard. 

When he finally withdraws and the blunt head of his cock pushes into him, Jaskier is breathless and struck mute. Geralt is bigger than he imagined, bigger than he looks and while he understands the need for patience, he wants to roll them over and sit back on him. He wraps a hand around the back of Geralt's thigh, gripping tightly to steady himself as Geralt inches forward, slowly splitting him open. 

When Geralt finally settles, he presses his head against the ground above Jaskier's shoulder, turning to nuzzle into his neck. He's breathing hard, his breath damp against Jaskier's skin and Jaskier reaches up, running a hand through his hair. 

"Okay?" Geralt breathes and Jaskier nods, overwhelmed and at a loss for words. Geralt's lips press against his neck as he rolls his hip and Jaskier tips his head back to give him better access. 

Geralt doesn't take it easy on him, but Jaskier couldn't ask for anything else. He can't even think straight, can't focus on anything but Geralt's cock and his hands and his mouth and the constant bolts of pleasure that zip up his spine. He won't last long like this, but he'd rather come too soon than have Geralt hold back even a fraction. 

He wraps himself around him, ruts up against Geralt's stomach with every thrust. Geralt's knees press in on either side of his hips and he gets an arm under Jaskier's back, hauling him up into his lap. 

Like this, Jaskier can't help but kiss him, but as Geralt fucks into him, he's constantly shifted. He groans in frustration, dropping his forehead against Geralt's shoulder and he gets a little laugh in response before Geralt turns to bury his nose in his hair. 

"Jask," he mumbles, " _fuck_." One of his hands comes up, threading into Jaskier's hair and it's as much warning as he gets before Geralt's arm cinches around his waist. 

Geralt holds him aloft, shifting beneath him and he's relentless. He fucks him quick and hard and Jaskier can only hold on and try not to let his control slip too quickly. But his cock slips against Geralt's stomach, sweat and precome slicking the way, and Geralt slams into him with startling precision every time. 

Jaskier groans into his shoulder and pushes his hips forward, grinding against Geralt's stomach and he's _so close_. He squeaks out something resembling Geralt's name in warning and then he's coming, spilling slick and wet between them. 

His head spins as Geralt only increases his efforts and then the grip around him loosens and Jaskier slumps against him, exhausted and filthy, but satisfied. He keeps his arms around Geralt's neck, kissing his shoulder even as Geralt lays back against the ground. Jaskier settles against him, uncaring that they're lying directly in the grass. He listens to Geralt's heartbeat, steadily slowing again, and realizes that the shopkeeper was right about the perfume. Pheromone enhancer. Whatever. 

He smiles to himself and buries his face in Geralt's neck. "Love you," he mumbles and there's a soft hum from beneath him as Geralt shifts to kiss his cheek. He holds Jaskier against him as he reaches out for his pack to grab his blanket. Without dislodging Jaskier, he drapes it over both of them, tugging it up over Jaskier's shoulders. 

As much as he loves laying on Geralt, he can't imagine it's very comfortable for Geralt, so he slips off of him and curls up against his side, resting his head on Geralt's shoulder. One warm arm comes up over his shoulders and Jaskier cuddles into him. 

"I take it this means we won't be disposing of my perfume?"

Geralt huffs a quiet laugh. "No, but I think I'll be holding onto it." He turns to catch Jaskier's lips in a brief kiss before returning to his back. "Who knows what you'll do with it if I let you keep it."

"I am offended," Jaskier scoffs, but even as Geralt rolls over again, pressing him down into the grass and kissing him silent, he's already thinking up the perfect time to use it again.


End file.
